Rei woke up with a start, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, sweat dripping from his brow. The remnants of the dream—the realm of Chaos—still clung to his mind like smoke, heavy and impossible to shake.
He sat up and glanced at the Chaos Scepter resting against the nearby wall. Its dark surface seemed inert, but Rei knew better. Inside it, there was a slumbering storm—a part of him that refused to stay buried. He rubbed his temples, breathing in slowly. The threads of his sanity had held, barely.
He stood and moved about the small room, his feet brushing against the cold floor as he tried to ease the tension in his body. Eventually, exhaustion reclaimed him, and he fell back into a restless sleep.
Far away in the royal capital, King Heinz sat in his study, a letter clutched in his hand. The candlelight flickered as his eyes moved swiftly across the parchment. He let out a sigh.
"So, he found out about Luc…" Heinz muttered. "Shouldn't have let him go to the mining town… but the scepter takes priority over trivialities like pride or secrecy."
He stood abruptly and pulled out three fresh scrolls. With swift, deliberate strokes, he penned letters addressed to the leaders of the other nations: the Weiss Kingdom, the Houlthart Dynasty, and the GALU Republic.
Once he was done, he clapped his hands. A servant entered the room with his head bowed.
"Deliver these letters immediately," Heinz ordered. "To the GALU Republic, Houlthart, and Weiss. Also… prepare the wyvern cart."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the servant said, quickly taking the letters and departing.
Hours later, the wyvern cart stood prepared. Its sleek frame was fitted with golden trim and reinforced leather, large enough to carry the king across the skies with haste. As Heinz climbed aboard, the majestic wyvern roared and took flight.
"Set course for Hazel Town," the king commanded.
Two days passed.
In three separate lands—each unique in culture, politics, and power—the same kind of shock passed through the highest offices. Three great men, each a force in their own right, received their letters.
King Vistara of Weiss read the message in silence, his sharp features unmoving, save for the slight twitch of an eyebrow.
Reyland, the martial king of Houlthart, let out a low grunt. "So he's calling us out?"
And Oliver, one of the Grand Scholars of the GALU Republic, smiled faintly, eyes glittering with curiosity. "Fascinating."
Soon, all three were airborne in their wyvern carts, soaring toward Hazel Town.
Back in Hazel Town, Rei sat in a dimly lit bar with Levi, nursing a cup of warm tea. The air smelled of ale and woodsmoke, and despite the low chatter around them, their conversation remained serious.
"There are too many things that don't add up about the war," Rei said, tapping a finger on the table. "How did that man acquire an Astral Weapon? How can fate allow demons to return… from the future?"
Levi scratched his chin. "I don't have answers to that, but I do know the old stories aren't complete. What's written in the Thousand Records… It's not everything."
Before Rei could respond, the bar's doors opened with a gust of wind.
King Heinz entered, flanked by Luc and—perched atop his shoulder—Tenko, who immediately leapt toward Rei and landed gracefully on his usual perch.
Rei turned, locking eyes with the king.
"So, you're the King," Rei said plainly.
"I've heard much about you, Rei," King Heinz replied. "Breaking the Thousand Records… quite the feat."
"And to reward me, you planted a spy," Rei said, his tone cold.
"It was a necessity," Heinz said, unfazed. "The Mystic Church is moving. You've drawn their attention. We had to protect you, even if it meant secrecy."
Rei leaned forward. "If that's truly your goal, then I have a condition."
"I'm listening."
"Luc stays by my side. As protection. But you don't get any more information from him."
King Heinz considered that. "And in return?"
"I'll lend my strength to fight against the demons—so long as the enemy is the same."
Heinz stroked his beard, pondering. "It's a fair deal… but I need more."
Rei narrowed his eyes. "What more do you want?"
"You will reach out to Martha and teach her magic. She's… special. And you'll contact Sigil. That's non-negotiable."
Rei's expression didn't change. "Fine. I'll do it."
"Then we have a deal," Heinz said.
Rei turned to Luc. "From this moment on, you work for me. Your first order—gain influence in this country. Hire the strongest people you can find."
Luc gave a small smirk. "Understood."
King Heinz, watching the scene unfold, could already see the ripples forming. Rei wasn't just preparing for survival—he was building a power equal to a nation.
Two more days passed.
At the Hazel Town council chamber—converted into a neutral meeting room—Rei sat at the head of a long wooden table as three distinguished visitors arrived.
"So you're Rei," said Oliver, his scholar robes flowing as he entered.
"I am," Rei answered calmly. "And you must be the kings and scholar from Weiss, Houlthart, and the GALU Republic."
Vistara stepped forward. "I am King Vistara of Weiss."
"King Reyland of Houlthart," said the gruff man behind him.
"Oliver," said the last, "one of the Grand Scholars of the GALU Republic."
Rei nodded. "I heard from Luc that each of you wants something from me,"
Vistara spoke first. "My country thrives on trade. We want your trading secrets."
Reyland followed. "My people are mostly martial artists. We want your sorcery—to strengthen our forces."
Oliver adjusted his spectacles. "We're after your knowledge."
Rei took a breath and responded to each in turn.
"To you, Oliver—access to my library in Orville Village. You can copy any book. But in return, you must invest in the town's development."
Oliver frowned. "What you're building requires rare materials. Expensive ones."
"You don't just get books," Rei said. "You get the infrastructure design—knowledge of my future books. Don't you want to advance your country?"
Oliver hesitated, weighing cost against progress. Finally, he nodded. "Deal."
Rei turned to Vistara. "You want trade secrets? Then you will sponsor my organization. Funding, logistics, safe passage. Everything."
Vistara didn't blink. "Deal, of course."
Finally, Rei handed a scroll to Reyland. "This contains my sorcery. I'll give it freely. But in return, I want a contingent of your army—at least fifty soldiers—available when I need them."
Reyland scanned the scroll, his expression unreadable. "Fifty men is manageable. Deal."
Rei leaned back in his chair, satisfaction hidden behind his calm expression.
Each deal was modest.
Each request is measured.
But he wasn't aiming to show his full strength—not yet. The foundation had to be laid in quiet. What he was building would not simply rival nations.
It would surpass them.